I did it. I saw a Surly Krampus and I couldn't contain myself. Here's the text I sent my wife from parts unknown:
"Went by bike shop to get some gels. They have two Krampi. Well, had two. I'm actually on the lam with one now. Will you call the shop and make sure I didn't hit Jack in the head too hard? I'll call you with further instructions. No funny stuff!"
I managed to make it...well, I'm not going to tell you how many miles...yesterday and I'm out of gels and in need of assistance.
Wait, no, I still have a few gels (remembered there would be a record of the total number that law enforcement personnel could use to calculate my distance [1 gel=X calories, X calories will carry man who weighs Y and fat bike Z miles]) and I scavenged some empty packets from the LBS garbage can. Or did I?
This Krampus is like a dream though. I haven't had to stick to roads or trails at all. It just rolls over everything! But that old lady that was run down by a cyclist at Veterans...no, that wasn't me trying to throw off pursuit. I may or may not be headed south in the clothes I was last seen wearing. And you don't know what color my hair is today or will be tomorrow.
Before I chose a final line of flight I poached a couple laps on the new trails in Versailles. Those words rhyme in Kentucky. I did a circuit of Vet, Cap View, Vertrailles, and Skullbuster. Since I'd never be able to show my face around the Bluegrass again I decided I should at least ride the four Crown Jewels of mountain biking in Central Kentucky one last time.
Now I guess I'll spend my days throwing off the scent with random Strava segments pointing at no place in particular. Tell my wife and kids I love them! The Krampus made me do it!
Oh, this is my 999th post.